


Cookies for Mrs. Coleman

by wickedlupin



Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Banana Fish Gift Exchange 2018, M/M, you can pine in kfc no one will stop you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-26 01:53:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17132828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wickedlupin/pseuds/wickedlupin
Summary: With the library closed for Christmas, Ash is forced to take a much-needed break.





	Cookies for Mrs. Coleman

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Banana Fish gift exchange 2018!

Ash woke up to the sugary smell of baked goods wafting into the bedroom. Afternoon light spilled through the crack in the curtains, and he blinked in it, heaving a sigh as his senses woke up. He could hear faint music from somewhere else in the house, softer than the usual upbeat synth pop that Eiji liked to listen to while he did housework.

The clock on the nightstand that separated Eiji’s bed from his told him that it was almost two o’clock, and so, reluctantly, Ash rolled out of bed. He wanted to have a few hours at the library before it closed. He opened the bedroom door and stepped into the living room strung with multi-colored Christmas lights. As he made his way out to the kitchen, he realized that the music Eiji had been playing was the soft tune of _Silver Bells._

He leaned against the door frame leading to the kitchen, watching for a minute as Eiji struggled to roll out dough on the counter. “Making cookies for breakfast?”

Eiji frowned at Ash—his signature Eiji-frown that made Ash chuckle—and sprinkled more flour onto the sticky dough. “It is already afternoon! I have already made breakfast and lunch while you were still not waking up!”

Ash shrugged, sitting down at the table and snagging a cookie from the cooling rack there. “Well, cookies for breakfast is at least better than natto.” He bit into the warm cookie and stole a glance at Eiji to see the exasperated expression he knew would be there.

“Mrs. Coleman brought us a fruit cake and banana bread, those are better breakfast,” Eiji told him, setting down his rolling pin in favor of cookie cutters. Ash looked past the cooling racks and noticed two bread pans at the end of the table.

“Damn, Mrs. Coleman sure loves you,” Ash said, standing to get a knife and cut into the breads. He took a slice of each and wrapped them up in a paper towel. “I’ll just take this with me. I’m heading down to the library.”

“Library is closed on Christmas,” Eiji pointed out.

Oh.

“ _Today’s_ Christmas?”

“You did not remember?”

With everything else that had been on Ash’s mind, he had not given any thought to the upcoming holiday, even as it surrounded him on the streets everywhere he went.

“I guess not.” He sat back down at the table to eat his bread. If he couldn’t get to the library, there wasn’t much he could get done today. “What are all the cookies for, anyway?”

“They are for Mrs. Coleman, and our other neighbors,” Eiji said, smiling. “They helped me put up lights in the living room yesterday, so I wanted to say thank you.”

So that’s where the lights had come from. Ash should have guessed at their neighbors’ involvement, after what he had come home to on Halloween.

“Christmas in America is time for family, isn’t it?” Eiji asked, laying his cut cookies out on a sheet to replace the one already in the oven.

Ash shrugged. “Yeah. ‘Home for the holidays,’ and all that, I guess.”

Eiji paused his work to look at Ash, with a tenderness in his gaze that made Ash feel vulnerable, but not uncomfortably so. Eiji understood. Eiji always understood.

Eiji returned to his work. “In Japan, Christmas is more of a couples’ holiday. But couples usually spend more time together on Christmas Eve.”

Ash felt guilt wash over him as he remembered coming home late in the night (or rather, early in the morning), and finding Eiji passed out on the couch, illuminated by the little twinkling Christmas lights strung around the room. It wasn’t the first time Eiji had tried to wait up for him, nor the first time Ash had carried him to their bedroom and tucked him into bed. But imagining Eiji, alone on Christmas Eve, worrying about him, waiting for him to come home and spend the holiday together—it was too much.

“You waited up for me,” Ash acknowledged. “I’m sorry I came home too late.”

He knew that by saying this, he was implying that they were a couple. Maybe they didn’t have a title for what they were, didn’t have the time to put a name to it, or at least in Ash’s case, the emotional vacancy. They didn’t kiss, they didn’t even share a bed. But there was something unspoken between them, something more intimate than Ash had ever known. And of course, Eiji understood it, too.

“Do not worry about it,” Eiji said, showing Ash that perfect Eiji smile that radiated sunlight. “You cannot go to the library today, so you will spend time with me now, yes?”

Ash stretched, popping the last bite of his banana bread into his mouth. “Guess I don’t have much choice, do I?” he teased, then ducked when Eiji threw a pot holder at him.

As much shit as he talked, though, a rare day off with Eiji was exactly what Ash needed. He helped Eiji make a bigger mess of the kitchen, then worked on cleaning it up while his friend delivered the freshly-baked cookies to their neighbors. Ash couldn’t remember the last time they had had down time like this—had it been since Cape Cod? He found himself smiling as he scrubbed the dishes, as pleasant memories with Eiji occupied his mind, until the boy in question came back through the door.

“Mrs. Coleman was disappointed you didn’t come with me. I told you that she would want to thank you!”

Ash rolled his eyes. “You should have taken all the credit, I didn’t do much to help anyway.” He placed the last dish on the drying rack and shook the water off his hands.

“You keep me company! That is helpful.”

Ash laughed. “You sap, that doesn’t do anything for the cookies.”

It was already getting dark outside before either of them gave thought to dinner.

“We have to go to KFC!” Eiji insisted.

“For Christmas dinner?”

“Everyone has KFC on Christmas!”

Ash didn’t know about _everyone._ He had never heard of fried chicken being traditional on Christmas, but he was willing to humor Eiji. Except—

“I don’t know if KFC will be open on Christmas.” Eiji’s face fell, and Ash cursed Kentucky Fried Chicken for daring to give its employees the holiday and crushing Eiji’s Christmas dreams. “But I mean, I guess we can go out and check, anyway. Some place is bound to be open.”

And that’s how Ash wound up bundled in a coat and scarf, wandering the streets beside Eiji, in search of fried chicken. Eiji seemed to be taking it as a challenge, a half-step ahead of Ash, paving the path between closed fast-food joints.

Ash couldn’t complain, even as the wind bit at his face. He could be at home with Eiji, warm in the apartment with a ham in the oven, instead of out in the cold searching in vain. But Eiji’s exhilarated smile brought him all the warmth he needed. He wouldn’t have wanted to spend Christmas any other way.

“If they are closed, then what do Americans eat for Christmas dinner?” Eiji wondered as they passed their fourth closed establishment.

Ash frowned as realization struck him. “This is something you do in Japan?”

“Of course! _Kurisumasu ni wa Kentakkii!_ ”

Ash laughed. “Fried chicken isn’t really traditional, here. People usually have ham, or roast turkey.”

Eiji mulled this over. “Even in Kentucky?”

Ash laughed more, his breath forming little white clouds in front of his face. He wrapped his arms around his sides, almost doubling over. Eiji stopped walking and frowned at him, crossing his arms.

“You are making fun of me!”

But all was forgiven as, at last, they found a ray of hope—in the distance, as they headed into East Village—Colonel Sanders’ face illuminated by the lights in the lobby, the red and blue neons of the open sign welcoming them inside.

In that moment, it was the greatest victory Ash could imagine. He and Eiji high-fived, the warmth of the other hand radiating through him. They hurried inside to the inviting smell of warm chicken.

Eiji seemed to know exactly what he was doing. He ordered a party bucket for the two of them to share, then flopped down at a booth with his hands in his pockets. Ash smiled and sat next to him.

“Satisfied?”

“It is a Christmas miracle.”

Ash snorted. “We made it just in time, too.” The sign on the door showed that their holiday hours were until seven. He looked at his watch; it was five minutes ‘til.

“We should take it home, so the employees can close up.”

“You mean you had me walk all this way just to head straight back? Cruel, Eiji.”

Eiji smiled and leaned their shoulders together. “It will not take as long to get home,” he assured him, “We will not have to stop anywhere on the way.”

Ash didn’t think he’d mind even if it took them the rest of the night to get home, but he kept that to himself. Their number was called, and Eiji hopped up from the booth to retrieve their bucket of chicken.

They braved the cold once more, with Eiji’s arms wrapped around the warm bucket. His nose was red from the cold, his face buried down in his scarf. Gradually, as they walked, Ash felt himself grow nearer to him, as if Eiji was some gravitational force drawing him in. Maybe it was the warmth radiating from the chicken. Maybe it was just Eiji.

Their shoulders bumped, and Eiji raised his face from his scarf to smile at Ash. “Cold?” he asked.

“Of course I am,” Ash teased, “But it doesn’t matter, we’re almost home.” Eiji was right; the walk home was much more direct. Their apartment building towered over them after seemingly no time at all.

The smell of chicken filled the elevator and made Ash’s mouth water. He wasn’t usually a fan of fast food, but after a day eating nothing but sweets, he’d take anything. The elevator opened on their floor, and Eiji led the way again. To their apartment. The one that they shared, together. Home.

It may have been the first time Ash truly felt the meaning of the word.

As soon as they entered the apartment, Ash grabbed a blanket from the couch and wrapped it around himself, as Eiji unpacked the bucket and set out their sides on the coffee table.

Eiji offered a wing to Ash, and he freed his arms from the blanket enough to take it, sitting forward more on the couch. Eiji took a drumstick for himself and smiled. “Now it is Christmas.”

Laughter bubbled up inside him. When had he ever felt so joyful as he felt now, feasting on fried chicken with Eiji?

The grease from the chicken left a tacky film on his hands that napkins couldn’t touch, but Ash was unwilling to move from his blanket cocoon, now warm and full and sleepy. Eiji also seemed content to stay put, and that alone was enough to keep Ash rooted there.

Ash’s blanket slipped off his shoulders, having come loose from his movement while eating. Eiji shifted closer to him, grabbing another blanket and draping it around both their shoulders. There was still a gap between them, though—they didn’t quite touch.

If Ash had lived a normal life, he wondered what level of intimacy he and Eiji might have reached. But Ash had a complicated relationship with touch. While part of him longed for more, another part of him kept Eiji at arm’s length. But, just like always, Eiji understood that. Ash had never needed to explain. Eiji kept his arms open to Ash, but never pushed for more than Ash was willing to offer.

Ash placed his greasy hand palm-up on the couch between them. Eiji glanced at him, then joined their hands, entwining their fingers and squeezing gently.

What they had was more than enough for now.


End file.
